“An old friend. I saw him earlier, and I suspect he might be interested in seeing you.” His eyes bored into hers.
The lithe, graceful figure disappearing behind a building. If you need me, I will come. Ileni drew in her breath.
Reluctantly, Evin said, “I suppose I can take you—”
“No,” Ileni said. “I can find my way.”
Evin frowned. “I don’t want you to get lost. Parts of the city are dangerous.”
“I’m dangerous,” Ileni said. “And I won’t get lost. I’ll be fine.”
The gleam in Evin’s eyes reminded her of Sorin, when she had surprised and impressed him. The difference was that she didn’t care what Evin thought.
But she wanted to see that expression on Sorin’s face again.
“If you’re sure . . .” Evin looked back at his brother.
“I am,” Ileni said firmly, but she had the distinct sense that he was no longer listening.
Arxis, Evin, and Girad strolled away, around the dancing fountains and toward the stone building. Only then did it occur to Ileni that if this was a trap, it might not be for her.
But Arxis and Evin did things together all the time. If Evin was Arxis’s target, there was no reason to think today was the day he would die.
Or if it was, that there was anything she could do to stop it.
Ileni turned on her heel and strode down the street. When she glanced back, neither Evin nor Arxis was anywhere in sight, and the black walls were back in place.
Heading “straight into the city” turned out to be less simple than it sounded. The city was a maze of streets, and not one of them was straight. Ileni walked somewhat randomly, counting on Sorin to find her, keeping track of her twists and turns so at least she would be able to find her way back. She had once done the same in the labyrinthine Assassins’ Caves, in dark, narrow passageways far more convoluted than these crowded streets. She had done it alone and she had done it with Sorin at her side, his hand barely brushing hers, his feet soft and silent on the rock.
When she came across a small garden, flowering bushes spilling over colorful rocks, it seemed as good a place as any to be found. She took a seat on the single narrow bench, closed her eyes, and began practicing the lead-up to one of the spells Cyn had shown her last week.
She didn’t hear him coming, but the bench shifted slightly as he settled beside her. She forced herself to finish the mental exercise, layering its even, flowing rhythm over her racing pulse, and then she opened her eyes and said, “Don’t think I’m not happy to see you. But you shouldn’t be here.”
The young man on the bench smiled at her, the expression making his round cheeks puff out, his face flushing to match his auburn hair.
“There is no place an assassin shouldn’t be,” Bazel said. “You of all people should know that by now.”
CHAPTER
14
Ileni’s heart froze, then went on beating, loud and slow. She could hear it, an echo in her head, overwhelming the silence on the bench.
It was a moment before she recovered her voice enough to say . . . what? She had to speak, to cover up the disappointment that must be burned into her face, to say anything other than, I thought you were Sorin.
What an idiot she was.
“I could tell people what you are,” she managed finally, in an almost steady voice. “I could scream assassin right now.”
“You could. I don’t think you will.”
“Are you sure?” Ileni said. “Don’t forget, you tried to kill me.”
“It was necessary at the time. But I’m not trying to kill you anymore.”
“I’m so glad.” Her disappointment ebbed slowly away, and rage rushed in to replace it. She remembered lying trapped on the bed, her finger broken, choking on the thick gag. “I can’t say the same.”
Bazel shrugged. “When it comes to killing, you’re an amateur. I’m not surprised you would take it personally.”
She remembered driving the knife into Irun’s back. The moment she had realized how easy it was to take someone’s life, and how little separated her from the killers around her.
Bazel was one of those killers. Yet here he was, trading barbs with her on a park bench. Bazel might be the least competent of the assassins, but he still knew a dozen ways to murder her before she could move. And all the assassins now knew it was possible to kill a sorceress. Someone must have ordered him not to.
It wasn’t hard to guess who. Sorin.
“Of course,” Bazel added, “if you do reveal my identity, I’ll have to tell your new sorcerer friends all about it. About the time you spent in our caves helping us learn to kill them. About your skulking in dark corners with our new leader.”
Ileni flushed. “Why are you here, Bazel? Who are you on a mission to kill, since it’s obviously not me?”